Coming Out
by hobgoblin123
Summary: Set at the end of CoS; Gerald and Damien have a rather enlightening conversation after their return to Jaggonath. Slight crack warning! Slash Tarrant/Vryce of the truly explicit kind in the 2nd chapter. Sorry, but I'm much too sleep deprived for a decent summary...
1. Chapter 1

**Coming Out**

Disclaimer: I don't own the Coldfire Trilogy; it still belongs to the wonderful Ms Friedman.

Warning: Somehow I still have to polish the 'juicier' parts, and therefore I decided to split this fic in two chapters despite its relative shortness. The first one is rather harmless with the exception of a short discussion concerning sexual preferences, but the next one will be rated M for a reason, so please beware if you're not fond of reading about two men having it off with each other...

Setting: This story could be considered an alternative ending to CoS; as you will see soon I strayed farther from canon than I usually do for once. Tarrant is human again, but due to certain circumstances there's no need to change his outer appearance and give up his identity. I'm well aware that the Patriarch changing his plans for whatever reason and striking a bargain with Damien and Gerald is not very likely with regard to his religious fervour, but for certain reasons I needed them as the men of the day. Of course Karril has his fingers in the pie once again (my favourite _deus ex machina_, eh?)... This story is in no way ambitious and hasn't much of a decent plot but owes its origin to one single sentence popping up in my crazy head, Damien's reaction to it and my boundless mirth at imagining that situation. If you read on you'll know what I mean...

A/N: Ahem, Silvereyedbitch, I just finished reading your latest fic, and it seems both of us have Karril acting the matchmaker... Lol!

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oo

Damien uneasily fidgeted on his seat and wondered at which exact point of his existence the world had turned into a madhouse. On their arrival at the Hunter's keep to save the accumulated knowledge of centuries in the form of Gerald's priceless books and notes the warrior knight had expected the worst, but to his utter astonishment they were hailed as saviours instead of being put in irons or getting beheaded outright. A mysterious informant had apparently talked some sense into the Patriarch's stubborn brain, and the campaign against the Lord of the Forest had been declared a success before things got truly nasty. In the Church's official version of events the Lord of the Forest had perished along with his ally Calesta and had finally gone straight to hell where he doubtlessly belonged, and due to his undeniable family likeness with Andrys Gerald was pronounced a long lost cousin who had escaped the slaughtering of his relatives because of a long stay abroad at the behest of the Church.

Vryce had a hunch that their _unknown_ benefactor was no less a person than Karril, but be it as it may he had apparently pressed the right buttons and had convinced the Patriarch that selling another Tarrant in service of the Church of Unification as the hero who had, aided by a valiant Knight of the Flame, rescued the human colonists from eternal enslavement at the hands of a sadistic demon would strengthen the Church's authority as much as a successful crusade but with lesser casualties. The warrior knight didn't even want to know whether their religious figurehead had listened to common sense for once or had just fallen prey to a very fine example of Iezu trickery instead. Maybe a combination of both had played a part in getting him to put an end to his tool's Andrys retaliation campaign spawned by Calesta's insinuations, but at the end of the day Gerald was still alive against all odds and reasonably safe as long as none of the few confidants disclosed his dubious past, and nothing else mattered. To Damien this astounding turn of events was another miracle he hadn't dared hoping for, surpassed only by the adept's unexpected reawakening from the realms of the dead as a human being, and his mind was still buzzing with the unforeseen possibilities enfolding before his inner eye.

Confronted with the deplorable condition of what had once represented a veritable storeroom of knowledge Tarrant hadn't exactly burst with joy, and reading the Patriarch's message wherein he had been briefly and succinctly informed that the destruction of the Keep and the Forbidden Forest along with demitting in favour of his last living descendant to sweeten the bitter pill for an outraged Andrys were an essential condition for the deal his mood had hit rock bottom. For a moment the adept's eyes had flashed with unbridled defiance, and registering the fury on his friend's exhausted face Damien had tensed up, ready for an intervention if the former Hunter came to the decision that chopping off a few heads would be in order as a punishment for those insolent claims.

Preparing for the worst the warrior knight had rested a comforting hand on a trembling, silk-clad shoulder, and to his amazement the tension had gone out of Tarrant instantly and he had bowed to the inevitable with a shrug and a low sigh. Gerald had always possessed a bright mind, and perhaps he had just come to the conclusion that under the given circumstances it wasn't altogether advisable to chance one's luck one time too many.

They had returned to Jaggonath in triumph a week ago and had attended so many victory celebrations and press conferences by now that Damien yearned for a bit of peace and quiet, but the Patriarch had made himself quite clear that performing those duties was part and parcel of the bargain, and so he found himself together with Gerald in the lounge of the Grand Hotel on a sunny Saturday afternoon satisfying the curiosity of yet another newspaper hacks.

After exchanging courtesies the handsome young man who had introduced himself as Dave Mac Masters got straight to the point. "Hope you don't mind me asking a rather personal question, but our informant hinted at some unfinished business between the two of you. The readers of the Jaggonath Times certainly would be delighted to know if their heroes harboured somewhat tender feelings for each other."

Tarrant just smirked while Damien almost choked on his coffee, and for a while he was much too busy gasping for air and wiping his watering eyes to reply to that nutty insinuation. Well, admittedly there were those dreams he'd been having lately, dreams which tormented his sleeping self with all too vivid images of Gerald and himself indulging in rather pleasant activities of the carnal kind, but that had to be a result of his sexual abstinence during all those months when they had tried to save the world from Calesta's manipulations. Nothing to worry about. Truly. If the damned God of Pleasure had indeed spilled the beans concerning their deeds and had come up with that crazy idea he wouldn't like to be in his shoes when Gerald finally got his hands on him.

"That's vulking ridiculous", Damien spluttered at long least. "Of course I won't deny that we've become friends over the years, but to imply that there's any desire whatsoever to hop into bed with each other is pure bullshit. Whoever told you that crap must be out of his mind! We're straight, man, and Gerald was even married and sired three children. Unfortunately his family fell victim to a terrible accident abroad, but he's certainly not into men."

"You're making a hasty judgement once again, Vryce. Actually I'm bisexual", the adept interposed casually, and the coffee mug fell from Damien's shaking hands and burst on the floor tiles. Not quite trusting his own ears he gaped at his companion in utter disbelief. In his own wicked way Gerald Tarrant had always been appreciative of delicate female beauty, and the concept that the ever so picky bastard wasn't altogether averse to having it off with a _man _just went over his head_._ That couldn't be true, had to be one of Tarrant's unnerving schemes or a striking proof of his weird sense of humour.

Having dropped the metaphorical bomb Gerald calmly leaned back and sipped at his red wine, but the thumb and index finger of his right hand commenced to languidly glide up and down the long stem of the crystal wineglass he was holding, and all at once the warrior knight felt quite hot under the collar of his shirt. The motion was slow, inconspicuous at first sight, and a casual viewer could have easily taken it for a sign of mental absence or boredom, but on Damien it had a rather disastrous effect. To his dismay watching those slender, pale fingers rhythmically caressing that bloody piece of glass elicited certain wholly inappropriate longings that Gerald would replace it with a slowly but surely hardening part of his anatomy. Very much against his will Vryce felt his ears reddening with embarrassment and shot Tarrant a withering glare.

The pale-grey eyes sparkling with sardonic amusement the former Hunter raised an elegantly arched eyebrow, but thankfully he stopped his suggestive activities and put the glass back on the intricately carved novebony table. Damien sagged with relief. He still had to digest his astonishment at Gerald's unbelievable statement, but facing the surge of arousal the damned son of a bitch had managed to ignite with nothing but a few ambiguous motions of his hand was an altogether different matter. Maybe the young journalist had a point and he indeed had the hots for the adept, but he still had to find out if his queer longings weren't a one-sided affair in the end. Just because Tarrant fancied men every now and then he didn't necessarily have to cast a covetous eye on Damien Kilcannon Vryce of all people.

"As we've made ourselves comfortable and feel free to talk about most private matters you might be inclined to inform us about _your_ sexual preferences, Mer Mac Masters. Forgive my curiosity, but have you ever cared to expand your horizons and lain with a man? If not you should give it a try someday" the adept suggested nonchalantly. "Let me assure you that with a skilled lover the experience is astoundingly pleasurable. But let's face the facts. You had better not skimp on a high-quality oil the way you evidently do on your attire, or you might find the act rather painful indeed."

Gerald's smile was sweetness itself and his silky voice almost amicable, but Damien didn't fail to notice both the cynicism and the icy contempt lurking just beneath the pleasant facade, and if he hadn't been busy with fighting the urge to strangle that nosy scribbler and his incorrigible companion alike the warrior knight might have even pitied the young man who blushed furiously and was evidently no match for Tarrant's acerbic tongue. A frosty silence descended on the group of unlike men at the coffee table, and it didn't come as a surprise to Damien that Mac Masters bid his leave with a sheepish smile soon afterwards and fled their company as if the devil were after him. Vryce stifled a sigh. The adept had considered participating in this boring propaganda campaign beneath his dignity in the first place, and evidently he had just run out of his already limited supply of good-will once and for all.

"Was this really necessary, Gerald? The poor bloke looked as if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. After all he was only trying to do what he gets paid for. I'd rather like to know who put that insane idea into his head, though."

Tarrant snorted haughtily. "Maybe you should stop worrying about that impertinent prat and get your brains going instead, Vryce. I've got quite a clear idea of the wretched busybody who's prone to poke his nose into affairs which are none of his business, and he will have to answer to me for his audacity. Trust me that Karril won't like our discussion, but notwithstanding you should take into consideration that a Iezu can see right through human pretenses and self-delusions. From his point of view that pest in the guise of a man doubtlessly spoke nothing but the truth, and denying the obvious is futile in the extreme."

Stunned by Tarrant's impassive admittance of very human attraction of any kind whatsoever to him Vryce blinked and swallowed convulsively. His deceptive angel face utterly serene Gerald patiently observed him very much in the manner of an uncat crouching in front of a mouse-hole, and for a moment Damien felt sorely tempted to imitate Mac Masters by making a hasty departure. To hell with the vulking adept in general and his godawful condescension, intimidating stare and unsettling aplomb in particular!

Nonetheless the warrior knight couldn't help but marvelling at the outer changes the transformation from a damned, undead creature existing beyond the grace of God to a living, breathing human being had evidently wrought on his companion. With his delicate bone structure and unblemished alabaster skin Gerald Tarrant the mortal man was doubtlessly every inch as beautiful as the Hunter had been on the day when Damien had first set eyes on him in Briand, but there were some very subtle changes in his visage that told of his newly regained humanity. A hint of colour had returned to the adept's fair complexion, and for the first time ever the warrior knight detected some fine lines at the corners of his pale grey eyes.

Gazing spellbound at his friend who sat enthroned on his plush chair like a mythological king of old in his silken Revivalist robes, so utterly at ease in the bright sunlight which streamed through the precious stained-glass windows, Damien's heart overflowed with joy and gratefulness that Gerald had been granted this unique chance at redemption. His eyes tearing up he whispered a heartfelt thanksgiving prayer at the address of the One God who hadn't given up on His fallen Prophet of the Law but had held His protecting hand over the prodigal son despite centuries of torture and murder committed in the service of the Unnamed.

"Hope you don't mind me interrupting your religious ecstasy, Vryce, but for the time being I'm rather in the mood for more earthly pleasures. Care to accompany me to my humble lodgings? As I've already mentioned it's worth giving it a try, and you've always struck me as quite the adventurous type."

The warrior knight blinked once more, at the loss of words. Gerald's smooth voice was still utterly composed as if he were talking about the bloody weather forecast instead of making an indecent proposal, but when the corners of the adept's mouth turned up in an alluring smile which would have done the Prince of Darkness proud Damien's capacity for rational thinking rapidly disintegrated into thin air, and as if in a trance he got up and followed Tarrant upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Warning: As I've warned before his part of the story is definitely M (unabashed porn without a plot;-)); please beware if you don't like reading explicit slash or feel offended by the usage of four-letter-words like 'f..k'...;-)

A/N1: The present chapter was inspired by coming across an amateur video on 'Youporn' (ahem, imagine me blushing furiously...;-)) which fuelled my already vivid powers of imagination even further. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have thought it possible for a man to come again and again and again without even touching his genitals :-O. Eight times in roundabout sixteen minutes, if I remember correctly... That was quite an amazing performance, mildly put, and I just stared at the screen with my eyes popping out of my head and mouth hanging agape. Of course I just watched for the sake of thorough research, lol! Well, one fine day I'll overegg the pudding and get kicked out of here, but up to that time let's be naughty!

A/N2: I know very well that I had Gerald being the experienced one and Damien the fretting newbie before (more than once, admittedly), but with regard to the enlightening conversation they had at the coffee table I had no real choice, so please don't jump at me for being repetitive. Although I can't quite picture it maybe I'll manage to create a scenario with their roles reversed sometime in the future...

A/N3: Sorry for overdoing it with my author's notes again, but just in case you read this, Black Dragon's Ghost (miss you and hope you're well): I couldn't help but hearing a rooster crowing each and every time I wrote a certain word. Damn! ;-)

A/N4: I don't know if there are any animals comparable to our chicken on Erna, but try as I might I couldn't find a synonym for 'spring chicken', so it will have to do...

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Gerald's _'humble lodgings'_ turned out to be a spacious suite which left nothing to be desired and could have easily housed a family of four, consisting of a spacious living room tastefully furnished with expensive antiques, a matching adjacent bedroom, a kitchenette and a bath. Naturally as a member of King Gannon's court the former Neocount of Merentha had been used to far better than this and had very probably employed a numerous entourage of willing hands in his very best days, but picturing his own modest quarters at the Church's guesthouse Vryce felt his hackles rising once again.

How on Earth and Erna did the damned bastard always manage to fall on his feet and stay true to his arrogant, aristocratic self while simultaneously adapting to the rapidly changing world around him? After all those years of travelling at Tarrant's side while trying to save the world and their hides alike the man was still a mystery to him, and although the adept evidently hadn't lost a shred of his abundant capacity for being a veritable pain in the arse a part of Vryce outright admired the proud, indomitable soul who had wasted no time with railing against his fate after he had lost everything dear to him once more but had picked up the pieces and started all over again.

"As usual you're jumping to unverified conclusions, Vryce", a calm, light tenor interrupted Damien's musings. "As a matter of fact I haven't lost everything or more correctly _everyone_ dear to me, and I can do very well without your pity. All living beings have to evolve if they want to survive, and the Hunter's time was up. Thankfully your jarring Patriarch displayed a semblance of sanity and reason for once and allowed me to save the reminders of my library before they blew up the Keep, but I suspect that I've even retained something more valuable than knowledge. How do you feel about field-testing this fascinating theory?"

His heart hammering inside his chest the warrior knight stared at the very man he had gone to hell and back for to rescue him from eternal punishment at the hands of entities for whom mercy was an alien concept. To his dying day he wouldn't stop marvelling at the miracle which had transformed moral revulsion and mutual hatred into deep caring and affection, but there was no doubt that whatever the future had in store for them the adept's essence had spread from his bloodstream to his heart and soul and would hold its ground always and evermore until his last breath and maybe beyond. Whether he liked it or not he had to face the fact that he had indeed fallen for Gerald's unquestionable charms and wanted him more than anything and anyone ever before his priesthood included, but a certain lack of expert knowledge somehow dimmed his enthusiasm and brought the sweat to his brow.

"Talking about a '_skilled lover'_ I have to admit that I don't meet that criterion, Gerald, and I can only hope that you vulking _field-test_ doesn't go terribly awry", he muttered uncomfortably, but his halfhearted objections were nipped in the bud when the former Hunter stepped closer and sealed his mouth with his lips.

Gerald tasted of nugrapes, red berries and sweet promises of even better things to come, and when he finally broke the kiss after what had felt like a small eternity of sheer bliss the warrior knight's head was swimming with lack of oxygen and arousal alike. "Although I'm admittedly somewhat out of practice I still remember the basics very well, Vryce, and you promise to be a most docile pupil", the adept breathed seductively, and to Damien's astonishment there was no mistaking the look in his eyes for anything but voluptuous anticipation. "Maybe you should have a bath first, though. It's a hot day, and you're quite soaked all of a sudden. The mere idea of laying with me hasn't made you break out in a cold sweat, I trust. "

If looks truly could have killed the former priest finally might have made good on his promise to rid the world of Tarrant's annoying presence for good in a rather innovative way. Fuming he somehow managed to suppress the overwhelming urge to wipe the knowing smirk off his companion's pale visage by a very small margin, but whether the reason therefore lay in the oppressive heat, a bad case of hormonal overkill or just naked fear he was indeed drenched in sweat, and there was no denying that his sharp-tongued nemesis was on solid ground. _Same business as usual_, _Vryce. You had better get used to it if you intend to put up with that incorrigible bastard for good, _Damien thought wryly and smiled despite his ire.

In the next instance a truly tempting image popped up before his inner eye, and purely on a whim he decided to grab the bull by the horns. If the fastidious adept wanted him to have a bath first for the sake of peace and quiet he _would_ have a bath, but he would be damned if he soaked in the bloody tub on his own. "What do think about joining me, Gerald?" he asked with a broad grin. "As you've already mentioned it's a warm day, and that huge numarble monstrosity with its fancy gilded taps they call a bathtub is certainly big enough for the two of us."

A glimmer of interest appeared in the pale-grey eyes, and the warrior knight's heart skipped a beat just to resume its duties at an accelerated pace. "Just so, Vryce. Every now and then you seem to have a lucid moment, but let me summon room service first. A bottle of champagne will do nicely, and you can run us a bath meanwhile."

Being at the beck and call of the man who still claimed the title of Premier Knight of his order like a bloody lackey didn't exactly improve Damien's mood, but picturing Gerald without a stitch on he instantly decided to postpone the long overdue in-depth discussion about the vulking son of a bitch's condescension and grating commanding tone to a more opportune moment and grudgingly made for the bathroom. Blessedly the premier hotel in town was equipped with the rare luxury of constant hot water, and he had just accomplished his task and sat down in the steamy bubble bath sweet with unspruce needles when the door opened and Tarrant appeared on the threshold, wrapped in a fluffy toweling dressing gown and carrying an uncorked bottle, two glasses and a small flask of oil he had very likely requisitioned from his kitchenette. At any rate Vryce fervently _hoped_ that the adept had indeed nicked the damned oil from the supplies instead of brazenly ordering it along with the champagne. As much as he wished otherwise it was as clear as day that in spite of the Grand Hotel's famous discretion their somewhat hasty departure towards Gerald's suite had been noticed by more than a single pair of prying eyes, and one didn't exactly need the overactive imagination of a bellboy to join the dots concerning two men in a hotel room, a bottle of pricey bubbly, the need of oil and the conspicuous absence of any other digestible ingredients whatsoever.

Keeping up appearances and all the other silly troubles of the mundane world faded into nonexistence though as the adept placed his impromptu seduction kit on a small, rollable side table and shrugged off his gown without bothering about trifles like modesty or shyness. Except for his pubic area there was very little body hair on his lean frame, and with his flawless creamy white skin and perfect proportions Gerald Tarrant in his birthday suit was no less a hauntingly beautiful sight to behold than in his lavish silken robes of an age long gone by. His heart in his mouth the warrior knight couldn't help but devouring him with his eyes although a weird mixture of breathless desire and visceral flight instinct threatened to twist his stomach into a tight knot. Completely and utterly unhinged he very nearly choked on his breath when the former Hunter gracefully climbed into the bathtub without further ado and knelt over him in one single, fluent movement which acutely reminded Vryce of his companion's unholy past.

"Just wait a minute!" Damien blurted out exasperatedly. "I've never done anything like this with a guy before, and for the life of me I ..."

"Don't panic and kindly shut your mouth for a change, Vryce! If you're still waiting for a manual I have to disappoint you, so just relax and enjoy the show."

Despite just having gulped down a glass of champagne in one swig Damien's mouth went dry as the big desert on the Western continent when the adept's right hand strayed southwards ever so slowly, teasingly, until his oiled fingers reached his perineum. Grey eyes locked with hazel ones, and for an fleeting moment time seemed to hang suspended, but then Gerald drew a deep breath, and in the next instance his middle finger slipped slowly inside him.

Thunderstruck the warrior knight just sat there rooted to the spot and goggled at his companion slack-jawed, literally incapable of stirring a limb. Neither a prude nor an ignorant he was well aware that if they wanted to go one step further than pleasuring each other with their hands or mouths a fair amount of preparation would be indispensable, but mere theory paled against the most sensual scene he had ever set eyes on. The visible parts of the adept's hand stayed almost perfectly still, but whatever lascivious games the bold invader was playing out of sight it seemed to achieve its purpose, and the warrior knight watched in utter fascination as Gerald started to breathe heavily after a while and a slight tremor passed through his body.

Apparently a thousand years of enforced abstinence hadn't had a detrimental effect on Tarrant's capacity for responding positively to continuous sexual stimulation like any other healthy human being, and witnessing the telltale signs of his mounting arousal jolted Damien out of his stupor at long last. In a blink he was on his knees as well and cupped his lover's buttocks in his calloused hands, relishing in the feel of firm, masculine musculature covered by velvety skin. Warm, soft lips closed around his left nipple, and his free hand languidly toying with Vryce's chest hair Gerald licked and nibbled expertly at the hardening nub of flesh until the warrior knight got goose-bumps all over and rubbed his groin against Tarrant's thigh very much in the manner of an aroused nudog.

Chuckling the adept released the object of his attention after a last bantering nip just to smother his throat with playful kisses, and Damien muttered a vicious curse under his breath. The vulking _'show'_ most certainly surpassed each and everything he had ever experienced in his crazy life, but he wasn't too sure he would be able to take this much longer without succumbing to a bloody heart attack.

"It's been a long time since I've done this, and I had almost forgotten how good it feels", Gerald purred into his ear, and the unveiled wantonness in his silky voice made Damien's hairs stand on end. "Now it's your turn, Vryce. Hurry and don't bother about the oil! We can fall back on it later if necessary."

His almost painfully hard erection begging for immediate attention the warrior knight had failed to register that Tarrant had desisted from his lustful activities, and before he could adjust to the new state of affairs his right hand was pried off the adept's behind and guided where he definitely hadn't gone before. Ever so carefully Damien pressed in, prepared to stop at once if the adept showed a whatever miniscule indication of displeasure or pain, but evidently Gerald had done a good job in setting the stage for him, and there was no resistance, no sign of discomfort on the angelic visage facing him with a devilishly alluring smile.

Running purely on instinct he curled his middle finger for testing purposes, and when his daring attempt was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a shudder he was pretty much convinced that he was on the right track. Heartened by the adept's favourable reaction to his trial-and-error method Vryce repeated the motion more purposefully and grinned inwardly as his lover sighed with pleasure and tensed up under the onslaught of most delectable sensations.

"Yes, Vryce, right there! Do me harder now!" Tarrant demanded heatedly, and the ever so controlled, aloof adept forgetting all about his damned pride and dignity and spurring him on with lewd suggestions went directly to Damien's loins and propelled his arousal to unprecedented heights. Tingling with excitement he obediently intensified the stimulation, increasing pressure and pace until the former Hunter threw back his head in rapture and opened his mouth for a silent scream.

Gerald clinging to him in the throes of passion, his breath flying and his flushed body jerking spasmodically as his internal muscles were pulsing around the warrior knight's digit very nearly shattered the last remnants of Damien's self-control, and desperately trying to get a grip on the mind-blowing surge of arousal unlike anything he had ever experienced before he automatically continued with his manipulations. When he came halfway to his senses again and was finally capable of refocusing on his lover Vryce was struck with wonder that his efforts were still very much appreciated and instead of calming down the adept was well on his way to his second climax if his panting and muffled groans were anything to go by. Up to now the warrior knight had only heard certain rumours concerning men who somehow managed to come without ejaculating and had multiple orgasms in the process, but to his astonishment Tarrant seemed to represent a telling example of those rare lucky bastards.

Vryce hid a smile at the adept's heaving chest. Maybe he would administer his own very special series of tests and get an idea of the hidden truth behind the wild speculations on the quiet, but although ultimately he was hell-bent on happily assisting Gerald in getting off all day long if necessary he decided that with regard to the little prank his companion had played on him at the coffee table the time to pay him back in his own coin had finally come.

"Are you sure you want me to go on, beloved?" he inquired sanctimoniously and slowed down to an occasional twitch of his fingertip. "After all you're indeed _'somewhat out of practice'_, and we don't want you to overexert yourself, do we?"

A lesser man would have blanched with horror at Tarrant's deep, throaty growl, but before Vryce could reconsider the wisdom of his teasing the adept took up the rains, yanking his head back by his hair and kissing him like a drowning man until fiery circles danced before Damien's eyes. Sensing Gerald's need on a visceral level he didn't have the heart to tantalize him any longer, and as his fingers slipped over the small bump he was feeling at the front of his lover's rectum once again he pressed harder and rubbed back and forth as fast as he could. The adept gasped and froze, his body as rigid as the numarble statues framing the main entrance of Jaggonath Cathedral, and when his muscles contracted around Vryce's finger for the second time his perfectly manicured nails dug in deeply and left bleeding scratches on the warrior knight's back.

Tarrant sagged against him with a dry sob, but his curiosity seriously piqued the former priest had no intention whatsoever to end their truly enlightening pastime yet. Steadying his lover he didn't ease up but continued the stimulation in the very same fashion, and to his delight Gerald's third orgasm in a row wasn't long in coming. Moaning ecstatically the adept convulsed in Damien's arms for what felt like a small eternity, and the last waves of aftershock were still rolling through his abdomen when he suddenly backed away from the warrior knight and gave him a firm shove.

Completely taken by surprise Vryce lost his balance and sat down on his fundament with a loud splash, and before he could gather his wits again Gerald settled down in his lap, bracing his back against his lover's bulky torso. Whatever Tarrant had planned so temptingly close to the object of his desire something inside the former priest snapped, and his adamant resolve to hold his fire and carry on until the adept literally begged him for a fuck crumbling into dust Damien grabbed his hips and pulled him right down onto his neglected erection.

He glided effortlessly inside Gerald's welcoming body, and a moment later his lover was all around him, tight and hot and so very responsive. The diminutive part of his brain still capable of rational thinking piped up, urging him to grant Tarrant some time to adjust to the undeniable difference in size, but everything sank into insignificance when the adept supported himself on Vryce's thighs and started to roll his pelvis in a tantalizingly slow rhythm which fanned the flames in the warrior knight's abdomen to a barely tolerable level.

Penetrating him from behind gave Damien just the right angle to massage that spot which brought his lover so much pleasure, and Gerald winced and whimpered softly each and every time he brushed over it. Vryce's nostrils flared as the intoxicating, musky scent of heat was mingling with the pungent aroma of the unspruce needles, and the enforced passivity delaying his own much longed-for climax his instincts screamed at him to bury himself even deeper inside the adept, to thrust up into the feverishly hot body writhing against him with desperate urgency until both of them found fulfillment, but his efforts were nipped in the bud by Tarrant's weight pinning him down and the resulting lack of leverage.

Panting forth a string of obscenities which would have made Damien blush if his blood hadn't been needed elsewhere Gerald let go of his thighs all at once and dug his fingers into his blade-bones instead, arching backwards until his nape rested on the warrior knight's shoulder. Evidently he was close again, very close, and half crazed with naked want Vryce grasped his hips anew without sparing a thought about the bruises the death grip of his fingers would very likely leave on the smooth skin and lifted him up just to impale him on his cock over and over in his desperate craving for release. Much to Damien's chagrin the sudden increase in intensity of the stimulation was all it took to send Gerald flying high again, and still nowhere near to the point of no return himself the former priest very nearly sobbed with sexual frustration when his lover came hard with a scream of pleasure that could have raised the dead.

Tarrant's hoarse outcries reverberating in Damien's ears he dazedly wondered why he had fretted about keeping all and sundry in the dark concerning the purpose of his visit in the first place. With regard to the racket the adept produced the whole second floor had to be aware of the things going on behind closed doors by now, but as a matter of fact Vryce was well beyond caring. He had to have Gerald again, had to fuck both of them senseless right there in the slowly cooling bathwater, or he would explode into a myriad of tiny fragments and be gone with the wind like a handful of dust.

The warrior knight never found out whether his thoughts had been transferred to Tarrant's mind via the link or he had just come to the same conclusion by chance, but all at once the adept disentangled himself from the Damien's arms and got up to his knees again, bending over the rim of the bathtub in an unambiguous offer Vryce couldn't have resisted even if somebody had pointed an uncocked pistol to his head. Seeing him so desirous and bloody _willing_, flexing that long, slender back glistening with droplets of sweat in the golden late afternoon sun like a cat in heat, Damien's mind blanked out completely, and in a heartbeat he was right behind his lover and entered him, clutching his shoulders and thrusting faster and faster into the tight channel until both of them saw stars and screamed out their pleasure without giving a damn for either next-door neighbours or nosy hotel employees.

"Let's get out of here and move to the bedroom, Vryce. I'm not finished with you yet", a soft murmur cut through his blissful state of afterglow, and Damien's jaw dropped in utter bewilderment. _'I'm not finished with you yet?'_ What the heck was the adept talking about? One should think that his needs truly had to be slaked by now, but an inquisitive glance at Tarrant's private parts quickly convinced him that he definitely was up for an encore. Grinning from ear to ear the warrior knight scooped him up and carried him to the bed on somewhat wobbly legs.

The mixture of sweat and bathwater still covering their tangled limbs would doubtlessly ruin the costly, cream-coloured silk sheets they had made themselves comfortable on, but gazing spellbound at Gerald's beautiful visage framed by waves of soft, golden-brown hair Damien couldn't have cared less. If somebody had foretold him at the beginning of their acquaintance that he would end up in bed with the Hunter his skin would have crawled with stark revulsion, but things had indeed changed profoundly, and now he couldn't imagine a day without the presence of damned Gerald Tarrant turning his life upside down and trying his patience with his antics any longer.

Smiling affectionately Vryce reached out and started mapping the angelic features so dear to him with his fingers, gently caressing the eyebrows arched elegantly like a raptor's wing in flight, the delicate nostrils and pale cheeks with their high cheekbones until Gerald closed his eyes with a wistful sigh and kissed him, kissed him so deeply and passionately that the world started to spin dizzyingly around him and his arousal was rekindled with a vengeance.

All at once Tarrant put a stop to the enticing exploration of his mouth and drew back, but Damien's protesting groan instantly turned into a gasp of surprise when the adept aimed for a new target and moved southwards, languidly trailing a line of hot kisses all the way down from his chin to his abdomen until his lips closed around his hard-on with a hungry moan.

Wherever he had acquired his expertise in nigh to a millennium Tarrant most certainly hadn't lost the knack of driving a man crazy, and his blood pressure rising at record speed Vryce was just about losing himself to the maddening sensation of his shaft gliding in and out of a very skillful mouth when the low sound of a bottle uncorked and oily fingers touching his most private spot brought him back down to earth. Although his attention had been riveted on quite different matters at that time Damien had very well registered from the corners of his eyes that Gerald had picked up the flask of oil from the side table in the nick of time before they had left the bath for good, but not in his wildest dreams he would have imagined that the adept had had something altogether different in mind than a mere continuation of the pleasant events which had taken place in the tub.

Uncomfortably close to panicking once again the warrior knight held his breath and turned into a pillar of salt, his sphincter clenching in instinctive protection against the dreaded intrusion. Vryce's sudden attack of sweating and the loss of his erection doubtlessly would have informed men less perceptive than brainy Gerald Tarrant that something was seriously amiss, and to his heartfelt relief registering his discomfort his lover didn't press on with his plans but instantly released his flagging penis. "I'm a man of manifold talents", the former Hunter smirked, "and if you give me a chance I might be able to show you that pleasure can be found in the most unlikely places. Literally."

Not in the least convinced Damien tried to shy away from the digit still touching his entrance in the most intimidating fashion. "Maybe we should save this for another day, Gerald. As I've already told you..."

"'You've never done anything like this with a guy before'. My powers of recollection are working just fine, and you don't have to repeat yourself, Vryce. Notwithstanding perhaps you should remember the old saying that a stitch in time saves nine."

_For that matter you had better remember that haste makes waste_, the warrior knight thought grumblingly. In his current state he could have very well done without a wisecracking know-it-all however enjoyable to look at, and for a fleeting moment he seriously thought about copping out regardless of Tarrant's potential displeasure. Wild scenarios of his headstrong lover calling him a sissy and walking out of him were floating through his overwrought mind when Gerald slid upwards in a graceful, boneless motion evoking the disturbing image of a human serpent and cupped his cheeks in his hands. "Listen to me, Damien", the adept whispered softly, "I would be very much obliged if you overcame your qualms, but I won't force the matter. There are many ways to please each other, and if you're set on drawing a line here I won't hold it against you. Should you want to move on to pastures new on the other hand I promise I won't hurt you, and you know I take my promises seriously. The choice is up to you."

Any traces of amusement had vanished from the fair countenance, and the honest concern in his lover's eyes very nearly moved Vryce to tears. Presumably that cold-blooded pragmatist wouldn't mutate into a softhearted pussycat anytime soon but would bare his metaphorical sharp claws more often than not for as long as he lived, but the breaking of the Unnamed's hold over his thought processes and his return to the ranks of the living had evidently furthered a development initiated long ago by the _taint_ of humanity in form of a certain warrior knight called Damien Kilcannon Vryce.

Ultimately it was a matter of trust, and whatever could be said about Gerald's peculiarities Damien knew with absolutely certainty that if the adept pledged not to cause him pain he would stick to his word come what may. Although he had definitely profited from their lovemaking as well Tarrant had given him an invaluable gift that memorable afternoon, and maybe he had a point in suggesting to _'move on to pastures new'. _His decision made remarkably easier by the sweet memory of how that unrivalled master of self-control had hit the ceiling and screamed with pleasure when he had been stimulated thus the warrior knight summoned up all his courage and relented with a faint nod.

His however reluctant compliance earned him a sultry look that simply took Damien's breath away and a short peck on his lips, and a heartbeat later Gerald set his mind on putting his mouth into an even better use by going down on him again. Devotedly sucking at his slowly but surely reawakening cock the adept was indeed very, very gentle with him, taking his time despite his arousal until Vryce relaxed and adjusted to the wholly unaccustomed feeling of penetration. To his astonishment the initial slight burning sensation was soon replaced by a weird flutter of pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and when Tarrant finally asked him to turn around and bend over the footboard he obeyed willingly, more than ready for the things to come.

Unsurprisingly Gerald had prepared him with his usual thoroughness, and in stark contrast to his earlier misgivings it didn't hurt at all when the adept finally entered him with an enraptured moan. In fact being filled to the brim was strangely satisfying in a most unexpected way, and the insistent, slick hand jerking him off in perfect harmony with his lover's rhythmic pelvic thrusts did one more thing to warm him to the eerie feeling of a man moving inside him. Sensing the first signs of his impending climax the warrior knight came unsettlingly close to banging his head against the bloody footboard in sheer desperation when Tarrant slowed down all at once and bent over him, his soft tongue licking off the beads of sweat gathering between his shoulder-blades. "You taste so good, Vryce", Gerald whispered huskily into his ear, "so enticingly aroused and eager for more. You just have to tell me what you need, and your wish is my command."

_That vindictive son of a bitch!_ He truly should have known that the adept would embrace the first opportunity to make him pay for his taunting, not to mention that in all probability Tarrant had prowled around in his mind without his consent once again and had presumably filed down Damien's intention of making him beg for sexual congress for later use. Now the time for turning the tables had evidently come, and naturally the former Hunter wasn't in the least inclined to waste a perfect opportunity. A surge of annoyance somewhat dimmed the fire in his loins, and for a moment the warrior knight felt fairly rebellious. "You know damned well what I _need_", he growled ferociously, "so just stop playing your vulking games with me!"

"But I would very much appreciate it to hear it out of your own mouth, Vryce. Being taciturn isn't your usual style, is it? Perhaps I can provide an incentive for becoming a bit more loquacious. Is _this_ what you want?"

Dead set on letting not a single word escape his mouth Damien dug his nails into his palms and pressed his lips together, but then Tarrant moved his hips once, twice, at _exactly_ the right angle to make him go up the wall, each motion accompanied by a teasing brush over the most sensitive spot right at the base of his glans that made his toes curl, and the former priest decided not to bother about parrying Gerald's retaliation with feigned indifference any longer. He wouldn't beg, not yet at least, but in his state of breathless arousal he didn't mind to play along for once. "I want you to fuck me, you bastard", the warrior forced out between gritted teeth, "fuck me as hard and fast as you can. Are you satisfied now?"

His lover didn't deign to grace him with a verbal reply, but apparently Damien's desperate outburst had been to his liking, and when the adept began to screw him in earnest Vryce moved with him, clinging to the baroque brass footboard like a lifeline and his gaze fixed on the enthralling tableau reflected by the huge mirror right in front of him. Tarrant was pulling out all the stops now, playing on his body as if it were a finely tuned instrument, but what truly got him going was the sight of Gerald making love to him with with reckless abandon, a look of almost religious ecstasy on his finely chiselled features. Lost in sensation, his usually so pale cheeks tinged with a rosy glow and his eyes glazed over with pleasure Tarrant was simply breathtaking, and the unbelievable fact that it was _him_ of all people whom the adept had picked for his first tryst after a thousand years of sexual abstinence and who was causing those lustful sensations ridiculously enough made Damien feel like the Poor Miller's Boy getting the beautiful princess in a very mature version of the famous fairy tale.

Bracing himself against the protestingly creaking metal as well Vryce's undoubtedly male storybook princess accelerated the pace, masturbating him with a wicked twist of his wrist while burying himself inside his lover to the hilt again and again until the warrior knight thought he would die from sheer bliss. Far, far away and barely audible over the pounding of the blood in his ears someone was sobbing his name, was shouting that he was going to come, the wild exclamation cut off abruptly when sharp teeth pierced the nape of his neck and drew blood, but everything drowned in the mind-blowing throbbing deep inside him which caused his whole body to jerk convulsively and ripped an outcry of naked ecstasy from his throat.

Slowly returning from the realms of carnal delights Damien yawned and blinked his heavy eyelids open just to come face to face with an amused grey stare. Gerald's hair was a tousled, damp mess and he had evidently bitten his lip bloody in the heat of the moment, but the waves of smugness radiating off him were almost palpable. In fact the adept was the living embodiment of the proverbial cat that had got the cream, and as the mischievous smile of his lover was widening almost imperceptibly Vryce narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "I know that look, Gerald", he moaned in mock exasperation. "Be my guest and get it off your chest before you choke on it! I'm much too tired to get cross with you, anyway."

For a man pushing his forties you had a rather strenuous afternoon", the adept chuckled softly. "I just wanted to make sure that I hadn't overtaxed your strength."

The warrior knight rolled his eyes. Evidently Tarrant wasn't through with paying him back in kind yet, but in a way he was right, and Damien indeed felt as if he'd just battled a horde of especially nasty demonlings. There was no denying that having worked up quite an appetite during centuries of celibacy Gerald had been a demanding lover, much more demanding than Ciani or even poor Rasya, and if he just hadn't had first hand experience he wouldn't have thought that kind of stamina possible in his wildest dreams. Judged by the noise level the adept's enthusiasm had increased proportionally to the duration of their lovemaking, and Vryce couldn't help but wondering for how long he would have been able to keep up riding wave after wave of pleasure if he hadn't set his mind on reversing roles for a change.

All at once the hotel room faded into nonexistence, and to his bewilderment the warrior knight found himself in a commodious chamber lavishly decorated in early Revivalist style. The silvery light of the full moon shining through arched windows reflected on gilded candle holders and hastily discarded silken robes and bathed the two naked figures on the bed in an unearthly glow. Although Damien was sure he had never met him in person before the bearded visage of the tanned, muscular man in his late twenties at most was strangely familiar, but it was the youth at least ten years his junior who arrested his attention. The golden-brown strands of hair were much longer and the slender body still lanky like a yearling colt, but when he threw back his head and heaved a loud groan the moonlight illuminating his perfect features left no doubt that the teenager was no other than a very young Gerald Tarrant.

Utterly taken aback Vryce blinked and tried to get a grip on the very unsettling surge of jealousy threatening to bring his blood to a boil. Gerald hadn't been cagey about the fact that he wasn't a novice in bedding a man, and considering that he had gained his experiences nigh to a thousand years prior to Damien's own birth it would have been outright stupid to blame him for those sexual encounters, but witnessing him getting off in the arms of that black-haired bastard was an altogether different matter.

A quiet whisper interrupted his unhappy train of thoughts, and the warrior knight pricked up his ears against his better judgement. "That has to be a new record, my love. Shall we try to make it a round dozen?"

As far as Vryce could hear there was no answer except another lascivious moan, but the stranger behind him evidently knew Tarrant well enough to take that for a _'oh yes, please'_ and continued to move in a slow but steady rhythm, his handsome face alight with so much affection and tenderness that the mere sight of it tugged at Damien's heartstrings. Whoever the man was there was no denying that he was eminently smitten with his youthful beau, and for a fleeting moment the warrior knight wondered what had become of their relationship when the adept had tied the knot with the deplorable woman doomed to die so terribly at the hands of her cornered husband.

Out of the blue an eerie, silvery mist clouded Vryce's eyesight, and in the next instance he was back on the crumpled, stained mess which had once been pristine silk sheets with Gerald's long limbs draped conveniently over his exhausted body and his delicate chin resting on the former priest's bulky chest. The adept's eyes were sparkling with barely veiled mirth, and his impish smile did nothing to calm Damien's rattled nerves. "You wanted to know, Vryce. But rest assured. It's blatantly obvious that you still need a great deal of training, but if you try hard we might even better that ancient record. That is assuming you're interested in checking the temporary results of today's applied research on a regular base."

That was Tarrant to a tee, and although he was still somewhat busy with digesting the amorous adventures of his lover's past Damien burst out laughing. "I'll think it over, Gerald", he giggled gleefully. "As you kindly reminded me a few minutes ago I'm not a vulking spring chicken anymore, and you don't want to be the death of me, do you?"

"With regard to what has come to pass between us today I'd rather not be the cause for your undoing. You've shown a lot of potential so far, and I've never been particularly keen on needless squandering."

True to his character the adept hadn't wasted any words about his emotions so far, but the light shining in those pale-grey depths watching him with the fondness Tarrant usually reserved for priceless, ancient tomes of knowledge or the rare artifacts which had survived the First Sacrifice told Damien everything he longed to know. Grinning the warrior knight pulled his lover into a tight embrace and kissed him fondly before both of them drifted off to a well-deserved sleep.


End file.
